Who's Asking?
by NovaStars42
Summary: "Excuse me, hi there! Are you Dave Strider?" "Depends on who's asking," Dave drawled. He swished his whiskey around in his glass, ice clinking on the sides. He watched as a gigantic grin broke out on to her face and her voice exploded in to incomprehensible babble.


His is a shotgun writing from June I think, and the challenge is to write something in an hour and only an hour. Except I cheated a little and edited. Enjoy.

* * *

"Excuse me, hi there! Are you Dave Strider?"

Dave glanced up to the litteral child standing above him at the table. She was bleach blonde, dyed pink at the tips and wearing far too little for a smokey bar in a shady part of down town L.A.

That's what attracted Dave's attention first, because he was concerned. She was gonna get snatched wearing that around here. Her tank top was pink and had a happy cat emoji on it. Her shorts were white and shredded as per the style of teenagers these days. She was short, and too skinny, and she was about thirteen.

Dave considered her for a moment. If she was a fan girl, she would have already asked for his autograph.

"Depends on who's asking," Dave drawled. He swished his whiskey around in his glass, ice clinking on the sides. He watched as a gigantic grin broke out on to her face and her voice exploded in to incomprehensible babble.

"Hi! It's so, so, nice to meet you! I didn't think I was going to find you and I had to ask around so much, and I didn't know who to ask at first, and it took me so long to get here I didn't know if you'd still be here! But you are! And you're here and I'm here and wow! I'm so, so excited to-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dave cut her off, "Who are you? Meryl Streep's granddaughter? Ben Aflac's cousin? What?"

"No, no!" She backpedaled. "My name is Roxy! My mom sent me here to find you, she says you're my dad!"

Dave stood up abruptly and threw a twenty down on the table. He pulled his aviators down, glancing over them to look at her uninhibited and spoke.

"I don't have any kids, kid. I have one little brother, but no kids." He fixed his jacket, turned around, waved to the bar tender and walked his size thirteen shoe out of the bar. Predictably, the girl followed.

"No really! You have to listen! My mom sent me here all the way from New York. I can't stay at her house and I have no where else to go!" She argued.

"Wayward children are not my problem," Dave passed her off, drawing his cigarettes and his car keys out of his pocket.

"But I'm not!" Roxy shouted. "My mom is Rose Lalonde! My name is Roxy Lalonde and you are my dad!"

Dave froze in his tracks, cigarette pinned in the corner of his mouth and lighter in hand, hovering nearby but not lit.

"You're Rose's daughter?" He asked quietly, voice hollow.

"Yes. And I'm you're daughter too!" She huffed, "I have one older brother, named Dirk. He's almost exactly one year older than me. My birthday is December fourth. I've waited so long to meet you."

"Oh fuck," Dave groaned, pushing his shades up on top of his head to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Oh fuck, oh fuck. How the fuck did you get out here?"

"I took a bus," Roxy said plainly.

"And you've, you've what? Just been wandering around L.A. unattended? Jesus Christ," he sighed, turning to face her.

"Yeah," she smiled, wide as ever as she rocked back and forth in her little pink tennis shoes. "But I'm okay. I've got you now!"

Oh no. They were in trouble now.

"Alright, okay, where's all your stuff? I'll. I'll call your mom. You've got to go back to her, you can't stay out here," Dave huffed, running a hand through is hair.

"Weren't you listening?" She inquired, "she sent me here, duh."

* * *

"Hello?"

"What the fuck?"

"Nice to hear from you again too, Dave."

"How the fuck can you just send a thirteen year old girl all the way across the country without clothes, without money, without anything? What the fuck, Rose?"

"In my defense, I was drunk at the time."

"Oh no. That's not an excuse, I'm sending her back. I didn't sign up for this shit, Rose. I didn't. I signed up for one accident kid not two."

"You can't do that, unfortunately."

"Why not?"

"Because I may or may not be in rehab. And I may or may not have declared bankruptcy. And I may or may not have a house for her to go back to."

"Oh my- Rose? How could you? Rose, I, fuck. Do you need help? Do you need money? I'll wire you some-"

"No! No. Don't do that. I can't- I'm not stable enough to be trusted with it... why the heavy sigh?"

"Because I can't believe I had a daughter and you didn't even call me. Like hey, Dave. Funny thing. Remember that hatefuck we had? The one last go around before we never fucking spoke to each other again?"

"Well, we did agree to never speak again."

"We-ugh. Fuck. We were bad for each other. Im- I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry Dave. I'm not."

"Roxy wants to talk."

"Okay. Put her on."

* * *

Roxy was... surprisingly easy to please. Dirk was standoffish of her, like a cat when you bring home a new kitten but that was understandable. He was fourteen and trying to pull this shit where he was trying to act cool but it didn't last. The second she started whooping his ass at Mario Cart he dropped it in favor of screeching as she cackled.

Dave ordered them a mess of Chinese and called that dinner.

"Dad, could you pass the sweet and sour sauce?"

Dave visibly twitched.

"You should just call him Bro," Dirk offered, breaking open a fortune cookie. He popped it in to his mouth, and he chewed his food before he spoke again. "He doesn't let me call him dad. Makes him feel old."

Dave coughed dryly. "You could. Call me dad if that makes you comfortable. You could too, Dirk. If you really wanted to."

Dirk cocked an eyebrow.

"Bro?" Roxy squealed. "No, I like that! I'd love to call you Bro!"

Dave gave her a forced half grin, finally passing her the sweet and sour.

"Do you really go to the movie set every day? To Hollywood? And see famous people?" Roxy asked, dousing her general chicken down with so much sauce she probably couldn't taste anything else.

"Do you want like, some chicken with all that? You're gonna drowned yourself and that bird. Yeah, uh. I do, go to Hollywood," Dave nodded, pulling a little plastic bowl of rice out of the take out bag. He dug in with a plastic spoon.

"Can I go?!" She asked, bouncing in her seat and shoving more than a mouthful of food in her face. Rose.. she looked like Rose right in the face. Dave's stomach dropped. That was Rose's button nose, and Rose's crooked smile and Rose, Rose, Rose all over. Dave forced his smile harder.

"We'll see," Dave replied.

"That means yes!" Roxy cheered. She jumped up, food in one hand and slung her clean arm around him. "Thank you! Yes! Can I get a cat? Please, please, please? I've always wanted a cat!"

Dave looked to Dirk for help, but the smug little bastard just folded his arms and smirked.

"Yeah, Bro. Can we get a cat?"


End file.
